Sycophant Soliloquy I, libertine, dream of you. Look no further for absolution.I will hand it to you here,in an archipelago of sinister machinations. In the light,one might almost mistake you for human. But shadows betray;darkness defiles.A kaleidoscope of candorreveals subterranean filthimpervious to all efforts to forgiveits pestilent reachbut my own.You will be purified.I will strip the sin from your bones.Peel caustic flesh back to expose the rot.Drink plagued blood from your veins. I will be your God. Open wide, child.Prepare to receive my host,a sharp edged instrument of mercy. And brace yourselffor the pain.

It came inside you,loosed like a cannon,splitting you at the seams. A bitter fusion,this blood and hate.Demons fuck like animals. Sapphire bruises,flesh ripped wide,led to slaughter with a septic smile. What king, from what land,armed his menwith a cock for a weapon? Cannibal soldierdevouring your purity,hungry for more. Submit to the swine.The white flag, consent;stained with the fluids of defeat. On hands and knees,you writhe in the dirtof an Armageddon soul. The carnage of this war sempiternal,eviscerated bowels of youthimpaled on a stick like meat. A legion rises inside,rife with the scent of the beast.

Haunting thoughts deliver screams of silence through the soulas nightwing creatures of the mind retreat to darkened holes.Begging for repentance and to live in fear of sin,the battling vengeance calls to hidden voices deep within.The soundgardens of anguish strike a tune of empty lyreupon the hour when images of heathens do appear.Vague regions of reality await beyond the pale,but in the lurking storm above, a horror does prevail…